


I'll Burn That Bridge When I Get To It

by youcantalwaysgetwhatyouwant



Category: Shades of Magic - V. E. Schwab
Genre: Angst, F/M, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Rape/Non-con Elements, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 07:40:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29713851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youcantalwaysgetwhatyouwant/pseuds/youcantalwaysgetwhatyouwant
Summary: Delilah Bard was left with no one to turn to once again. Damn it, she never should have become reliant on someone. She knew better than that. Now, all alone in Red London, she will have to find a way to survive, just like always. But maybe, just maybe, she doesn't have to be alone. If she's willing to trust again that is.orBetrayed by the people she became reliant on in Red London, Delilah runs away and finds herself in the company of an individual who may be more trustworthy than she initially thought.
Relationships: Delilah Bard/Holland Vosijk, Delilah Bard/Kell Maresh, Delilah Bard/Rhy Maresh
Kudos: 2





	I'll Burn That Bridge When I Get To It

**Author's Note:**

> I'm very excited to be posting my very first fic! A friend challenged me to write something for a prompt that I'll post at the end, so here we are. If this work gets attention, I'll continue the story, but for now it's just the one chapter completed with a vision for how I want to continue the story.
> 
> Please mind the tags.
> 
> I don't really know what else to write here so enjoy! Let me know what you think!

Lila clutched her side and wiped away a trail of blood leaking from the corner of her mouth. I should have known better than to trust them, she thought bitterly to herself, fighting off images of what just happened from overwhelming what little self preservation she was hanging onto in her current state.

Just get to the tavern… get to the tavern… Repeating this as a mantra, Lila stumbled quickly through the familiar streets of Red London, hazily trying to remember which tavern he stayed at when he was in the city. Her vision began to blur as the drug settled more forcefully in her system.

There it is… that one.. She went around to the back alley way and began a clumsy ascent to the room he was staying in. She couldn’t just go through the tavern. The more people saw her, the faster they would find her. She nearly lost her grip a few times, but pure desperation and stubbornness kept her from falling.

Luckily the window was ajar, so she was able to push it open just enough to crawl through and fall on the floor before slamming it shut. She unsteadily got to her feet, finally feeling the exhaustion catching up to her as the adrenaline began to fade.

She was colder than she realized, but couldn’t make herself move to fix that. Her limbs were so heavy, it was a wonder she was still standing at this point.

The patron of the room was returning from the tavern downstairs with a full belly and a deep desire for a good night's rest that the gods probably wouldn’t be kind enough to grant. The door swung open and his eyes landed on Lila, swaying in the middle of the room. He noted several things very quickly. She’s shivering, bleeding, and uncharacteristically scared. There’s also a slightly dazed look in her eyes - she was drugged. She looked like she was assaulted.

Looking up at him, Lila mumbled, “... didn’t know where else to go…”

Holland took a step forward. She reflexively put a hand on one of her knife holsters and attempted to take a step backwards, but it was at that moment, all of the events of the night became too much, and she succumbed to unconsciousness. Holland dove forwards, catching her for reasons he couldn’t understand.

What the fuck happened? He frowned as he picked her up and carried her over to his bed. He then quickly went over to the windows to make sure they were secure. He already had one unwanted visitor, and he didn’t need any more surprises tonight.

Holland pressed his wrist into the blade that was sewn into his coat’s sleeve and gathered enough blood to draw protective sigils over the windows and door - something he was kicking himself over not doing upon acquiring the room. He then drew the blinds, and turned to secure the only other liability in the room.

He secured Lila’s hands, bound together, above her head and attached them to the headboard. Next, he quickly patted her down, removing every weapon he could find, not wanting to be stabbed in the middle of the night. With that done, he began tending to her wounds as best as he could while trying his best not to wake her.

His frown deepened. He wasn’t sure why he was showing Lila so much kindness with absolutely no reason to. If anything, he should just take one of her knives and finish her off in this vulnerable state, as that would remove a potential obstacle to his current mission. The strange thing was - he just couldn’t bring himself to harm this girl who somehow reminded him of a less jaded version of himself.

He cleaned the blood from her face and neck, knowing that what had soaked into her shirt and began to dry was a lost cause. He brushed her hair from her neck as he continued to wipe her down and paused at the bruises that circled her neck in a strange and uneven pattern, one that he was not unfamiliar with. He sighed and pulled Lila up enough to pull her torn, bloodied shirt off, and once he was certain she wouldn’t wake up from being jostled, he untied her hands so he could finish. He methodically cleaned the rest of the blood and grime off of her slender frame as quickly as possible, taking note of the cuts and bruises that were more concentrated around her torso and hips.

Once cleaned and bandaged, he dressed her in some clean clothes of his and once again secured her wrists to the headboard. His shirt billowed around her, much too large, and he watched for a moment as her chest rose and fell in a peaceful rhythm he never seemed to be able to find.

He rose from his seat on the side of the bed and grabbed the extra blankets and pillow to make a resting place for himself on the couch. This set up was still a hundred times more comfortable than his own bed in White London, so he didn’t mind. He began to drift off to a light sleep, ready to wake up the moment she did so she wouldn’t catch him unawares again.

...

_The hands gripping her hips tightened as she felt her entrance being prodded. Lila tensed against the bonds that were holding her. Adrenaline poured through her veins as she tried to think of a way out of this situation but coming up painfully empty._

_Her assailant began to push his way into her cunt, moaning at the tight fit. The stretch of her unaroused walls burned, but Lila refused to make a noise. She would not give him the gratification of hearing her whimper; she hoped that resolve would hold if it came to the urge for screaming as she had the suspicion it might._

_A noise distracted her momentarily from the man at her back and she looked up from the desk she was bent over towards the door. All the blood drained from her face as she recognized the person entering the room. He swiftly shut and locked the door behind him before turning to face the scene before him. A scowl formed on his lips as he ignored her and looked at her assailant._  
_“Ahhh, there you are,” came the sickly smooth voice from behind. “I hope you don’t mind that I got started without you.” He punctuated his words with a dull slap as his hips met Lila’s. “I know she is a particular interest of yours.”_

_The scowl deepend on the man in front of her, and he finally looked down at her. His eyes were more cold to her than she had seen them before. She realized that he was not there to help her. It was stupid of her to hope for that._

_He began to make his way slowly forward. Lila writhed against her bonds again, panic building._

...

Lila screamed, trying to jerk herself upright only to feel a painful tug on her wrists and a throb in her shoulders from stretching them too far. She thrashed, trying to get out of these binds. I have to get out. Get away. Get away now. Her mind raced, not noticing the man slowly approaching her until he was arms length away.

“God no please no!” Lila strained until the headboard began to creak. “I’m sorry, please!” Bile rose in her throat at the thought of going through all of that again, and tears formed in the corners of her eyes. “Not again, please.”

“Lila. Lila.” Holland leaned down slightly, trying to meet Lila’s eyes. They were glassy and not really seeing him but rather seeming to look straight through him as she kept up her pleading. Holland reached for her face, wanting to cup it and guide her eyes to his, but she flinched away from it and began to hyperventilate.

“It’s me, Lila. Holland. Remember, you found my room at the tavern last night? You’re fine.” He did his best to reassure her but knew that it mostly fell on deaf ears. He sighed and pulled the couch over to the bed. He kept murmuring little nothings to her, trying to talk her through her panic attack, but failing miserably. He never really was one to comfort others.

Slowly Lila’s eyes focused on the room around her and her breaths slowed. Once she was out of whatever waking nightmare was clouding her mind, she slowly looked around the room and met Holland’s mismatched eyes. Her’s widened with surprise and skepticism, not completely sure how she wound up tied to his bed and that he wouldn’t hurt her. He patiently reminded her of his side of the events that had transpired the night before.

A barely perceptible shiver ran over her and she nodded.

“If that’s all that happened, can you untie me? My wrists are sore.”

Holland hesitated, knowing that he and Lila don’t really have any reason to trust that the other wouldn’t slit their throat given the first chance.

“I will untie you if you give me your word that you won’t attack me. I only tied you down to ensure my own safety last night. I don’t know what happened, why you came to me as you did last night, but remember I helped you.” Holland narrowed his eyes at Lila as she nodded in agreement.

He stood and leaned over her, reaching for the knots that bound her hands to the bed. The moment they were loosened enough for her to pull free, Lila pulled her feet up, planted them on his chest and shoved. Holland tripped backwards onto the couch and she lunged forward, pulling a knife seemingly out of thin air. She knelt over top of him with this new knife pressed up underneath his jaw, breathing heavily from adrenaline.

Holland just looked at her with a calm and even expression, hands resting by his head with the palms up. “You swear you didn’t touch me last night?” Lila spit out the question between clenched teeth.

“The only physical contact I made with you other than to tie your wrists was to clean your wounds and get you in fresh clothes.”

Her own expression slowly softened from a glare as she glanced down, now realizing that she was no longer dressed in torn, dirty fabrics. She leaned back and released the pressure she was putting on her blade. Lila moved to sit in a chair on the opposite side of the room, pulling her feet up and hugging her legs. Holland moved to sit up once she was settled and they shared a look that said everything and nothing at all.

“I don’t want to talk about last night.” Lila said as she shifted her glance to glare at the wall.

“Okay.” Holland nodded, relieved that he didn’t have to hear about whatever trauma she went through. The visual remains told enough of a story for now.

Unsure of what the next step was supposed to be for.... whatever this was - the two sat in silence.

\----

**Author's Note:**

> As promised, here is the prompt my friend sent me!
> 
> Prompt: The hero shows up at the villain’s doorstep one night. They’re shivering, bleeding, scared. There’s also a slightly dazed look in their eyes - they were drugged. They look like they were assaulted. Looking up at the villian swaying slightly as they’re close to passing out, they mumble, “... didn’t know where else to go…” then collapse into the villain’s arms.  
> @one-lonely-whumperfly on tumblr


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